


the new dance student

by starker_garbage



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dancer Peter Parker, M/M, Student Peter Parker, Teacher Tony Stark, coach tony stark, dance au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-29 12:59:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starker_garbage/pseuds/starker_garbage
Summary: tony is a tired ass ballet coach and he's really tired of all these lazy kids he's in charge of teaching, so much so he's about to quit, but someone new stops him. that someone's name is peter parker.





	1. Chapter 1

all characters are portrayed as 18+  
((this took way longer than it should, and i know nothing of dancing, loosely based of @starkerise ‘s ballet moodboard, so thank, darlin.))  
*Coach!tony dance student!peter*

Tony Stark was almost done with his job. He couldn’t do it anymore, the kids weren’t ever motivated, they didn’t listen, and most of them just seemed like they were only doing it because their parents wanted them to.

Never in his years of teaching had he seen a group of teens so lazy and unmotivated. They mouthed off, had no respect, and never put in any effort at all! He was about to quit, he just couldn’t do it anymore.

He was literally going to turn in his two weeks notice after the last practice he had with his team that day. But, something - no someone - stopped him.

Peter Parker, new kid, experienced, and he actually cared. It was only his first day and he proved to care more about the team then the people who had been competing and practicing for years. He stopped Tony from quitting that day, he brought him hope.

The kid was perfect, milky pale skin, bright brown eyes, soft hair atop his head. He had a skinny, slender frame, and was very flexible. He had practiced and practiced and it was just that day, Tony Stark, wasn’t going to quit.

-

It’d been a week and Tony had been spending so much time on private lessons. He had hope for this kid, even if the rest of the team didn’t give a shit, this kid could pull them to the win, he had drive, a goal, something to prove.

“No, kid, look, down. Up. Spin. You’re doing down, eehh-up, not enough momentum to spin, you need to just put more umph into it?”

“Yes, sir, Coach Stark,” Peter said, nodding his head, taking a deep breath and going back to begin again, a determined look in his eye. He was mumbling to himself as he bent his knee, lowering himself, leg up, down, up, - Tony already knew it was going to be good when he saw the boy jump, Tony was already smiles, cheering as he spun around, landing perfectly.

“Yes!” He said, clapping his hands, walking closer to Peter. “Perfect, exactly, like that, now do that, but everytime,” 

“Did I really do it!?” Peter asked enthusiastically, jumping up with a little bit out of joy.

Tony nodded, admiring the boy, who was wearing very tight leggins and a red crop top making Tony go crazy, “You know I wouldn’t lie to you kid,” Tony said, which was the truth. He couldn’t lie to a face like that.

“Yes!” Yelled the kid, once again, slightly over-enthusiastic. 

Tony laughed at his excitement, then swirled his fingers. “Okay, from the very top, up until that point, ready?”

Peter nodded, “Yes, sir, Coach Stark,” He walked back to the center of the practice room, where he had been starting for the entire practice. Tony looked up at him with his eyebrows raised, asking the silent question: ‘ready?’

Meeting eyes with Tony, Peter nodded his head, his face that was just smiling and beaming with pride, back to serious, concentrated and focused. Tony clicked his remote in his hand and the music started from the speakers, filling the entire room with the beat of the music. 

The song Tony chose could be seen as mildly inappropriate, but he knew Peter could deliver the dance just as he imagined it in his head. The lyrics of ‘Opera House’ by ‘Cigarettes after s/ e/ x’ (<


	2. kiss me before i lose my mind

part two of ‘the new dance student’  
thank you for all the support and love on that work, and i hope you all enjoy this <3

all characters are portrayed as 18+  
*dancer!peter, dance coach!tony, dance au*

For the next six months, Peter had done perfect on all his performances, including one when he had the flu and insisted that he would still perform, and while it wasn’t his best show, it was really fucking good nonetheless.

As for Tony and Peter’s relationship. They hadn’t kissed since Peter’s first performance. It was harder when they were together now. Neither one of them mentioned it, but Tony wouldn’t deny the lingering looks he gave Peter when the boy wasn’t looking.

He wouldn’t deny how when the boy would talk to anyone, rather it be a younger student that was lost and needed directions to their class, or if it was a duo and he was working on the chariography, or if he was just talking on the phone, Tony wouldn’t stop looking at his pink-peach lips.

They had one makeout session in a supply closet, and now Tony couldn’t stop thinking of it. Tony didn’t know where Peter stood on their whole situation. Peter seemed to talk to him more after, but once Tony - who was bathing in guilt - asked him what happened that night, and it did come out kind of snappy, Peter retreated, barely sharing a smile with him in the mornings and then going straight to work, no talking, no excitement, just focus and work.

Tony hated it. He wanted to talk to Peter like he used to. He wanted to pat him on the back without it being weird, or wrong. Most of all, he wanted Peter. Yet, while wanting Peter, he also knew it was wrong to want him. Sure, Peter was legal, but that didn’t mean the age-gap would be slightly frowned upon, and he’d feel like he would be taking advantage, but all Tony fucking wanted was Peter.

“Okay,” Tony said, flipping his pages on his clipboard, his students were probably not paying attention, but at least when they messed up he could say it was their fault. “Friday we are all going down to Miami,” Tony gave a sarcastic ‘wooo,’ noise. “We’ll all be leaving together on a plane, we’ll be taking off around - let’s see - five-thirty, AM, not PM, just to clarify,” Tony said, sighing, flipping for the next page. “We’ll stay there until Monday night, then we’ll be flying back, they’ll be some bad weather, nothing too bad, but it’s not great or ideal or,” he waved his hand in the air. “Whatever,”

Peter wasn’t looking at Tony, but he was all ears, soaking up every word his Coach had to say.

“We have two days ‘till then,” Tony sighed. “No practice Thursday because we all need sleep, And,” He dragged the last word out, searching through the ‘files’ in his brain for anything else. “-That’s it,” Tony clapped his hands, dismissing the practice, the dancers spreading out to go grab their things.

Peter doing the same thing, making sure not to look the older man in the eye while doing so. He grabbed his bag, putting everything in it. He waited for everyone to leave, pretending like was organizing his bag again, or that he lost something, anything that made him look busy.

Once everyone was gone, Peter zipped up his bag. “Goodbye, Coa - Tony,” He said before walking away, his shoes clicking on the floor as Tony looked in the direction of the voice, the voice he hadn’t heard say something to him (that wasn’t during practice and what to do) in months.

It was so strange to him, he didn’t even say ‘bye’ back.

-

4 AM, Peter’s phone was blaring his alarm, telling him to wake the fuck up. Not wanting to wake Aunt May - who said she’d go, but Peter couldn’t do that to her - he turned off his alarm, the only light in Peter’s dark room coming from the little sliver of sun that was rising and the glow of the street lights from below.

He stumbled out of bed, knowing he had to wake up and if he stayed in bed, he would just fall asleep again. To wake up, he decided he would just take a shower immediately. Wash his face and wake up. Four in the morning was ridiculously early, but it took him forever to get ready.

Once his shower was done, it was four-thirty-ish. Peter dried his hair, put on his facial-routine things. After realizing he only had an hour to get ready, Uber to the airport, and be on the plane to take off, he hastily began finding the clothes he wanted to wear.

He chose sweatpants that cuffed at the ankles, they were black and he wore a white tank-top, putting a thin blue jacket over it, white strings slightly uneven. He zipped the jacket up halfway, before running a hand through his almost-completely dry hair.

He checked his bag, making sure everything was in there. He had his costume, his night clothes, day clothes, and his charger. After knowing that was in there, he put in the rest of his things, such as his toothbrush and other things like that.

He looked at his Phone, noticed fifteen minutes had passed, and now he only had 45 minutes. He called an Uber, and began walking down stairs his apartment, taking some money he could scramble up for the Uber, then checking his wallet for his credit card.

His Uber wasn’t there for another five minutes once he got downstairs, but when it arrived, he asked the driver to run by Starbucks, and then the airport. Logan, the driver, did not deny him, and made their way to the coffee shop.

Peter grabbed a Iced Cinnamon Dolce Latte, paid the girl at the counter, and walked back out with his drink. He got back in the Uber and Logan took him to the airport. He arrived with literally ten minutes to spare. 

“Thank you,” Peter said, handing Logan money for the ride. He quickly ran out and went to join up with the rest of his team, who all seemed to be present, Tony looked actually done with everything.

Don’t even get Peter started on Tony.

Besides his group, everyone else seemed to be just as busy, rushing around, children crying, everything was chaotic, but Peter politely pushed his way through the crowd, making sure not to spill his coffee. 

“You, you, - yes, you - stop sucking face, where are you tickets? Christ, has anyone seen Pete?” He asked and Peter piped up, “I’m right here,” He said, raising his hand. Tony’s eyes searched the crowd of students before his brown eyes met with Peter’s, locking for a moment before Peter looked down, staring at his shoes like they were saying something important.

“Okay, we have like seven minutes to get from here, to board the plane, so let’s grab our shit a move,” Tony said, picking up a red bag that looked way too expensive for what was happening. 

The entire group started moving towards the plane-boarding thing. Peter trailed behind, trying to finish his drink before the flight attendants would make him throw it out. He needed all the caffeine he could get so he could survive this three hour flight with the people he called his team.

-

Tony felt like he was going to blow his fucking brains out as they were getting off the plane. He, being the great Coach he is, bought a first class ticket, and allowed his team to choose what they wanted to buy, but most of them did choose to just - sit in the back.

Either way, when they got off, you had the rowdy ones that just wouldn’t shut up, and he was jet lagged - but luckily the other half of his class decided to be calm and quiet, also very jet lagged and sleepy. 

They made their way off the plane, Tony taking three counts to make sure they had everyone because you had those three parents that overly obsessed over every-little-thing. Those parents were the reason Tony would always order a bottle of scotch to his hotel room.

“Okay, feel free to do whatever you want today, curfew is 8, I know it’s early, but there are too many of you to let everyone stay out till past midnight,” Tony sighed once they got to the hall that they rented out for the rooms. There were a few rooms they didn’t rent because they didn’t need too, so Tony felt bad for those seven people. “Saturday is the first performance, half of our team will perform, the other half will wait until Sunday,”

Tony was trying to remember everything. When Peter was with him, he started enjoying his job, but now, after performing, they share one look and that’s it. Tony wasn’t exactly loving his job as much anymore, sure he watched the younger male perform, and yes he felt pride, but it wasn’t the same.

“Sunday is also when we’re expecting some bad weather, and that’s why we’re not leaving until Monday around 2 PM, because it needs to clear up, and that’s all, so everyone - go busy yourselves,” Tony said, watching as everyone left, and he walked into his own room to start unpacking.

-

Peter wasn’t one of the ones performing on Saturday. He usually was always one of the last solo’s, he knew Tony always planned it out, he planned it that way so he could arrive late and leave as soon as he was done.

Peter knew Tony, but he couldn’t figure out WHY the man wanted that. They literally made-out and it ruined anything. Peter was going crazy, especially as he watched the man all Saturday(while making sure not to be caught, which yes, sounded stalker-like, but he wasn’t stalking, he was watching his team mates, and wasn’t hiding from anyone else. He just couldn’t let Tony know) coach everyone else.

He was wearing a suit like he always did on performance days, and he looked so good. The entire thing reminded Peter of when everything happened, and it almost brought him to tears. He fell for Tony, and he figured out that that’s what this was moment ago as he watched everything. He was falling for Tony Stark, a man who could never love him back.

Because if he did, he had some strange way of showing it.  
Plus, a man like that was probably married. It would make sense if he was married, that would explain why after everything happened, he became cold and silent, not speaking, not even making eye-contact. Because then Peter would have been a homewrecker.  
Even if it was just a kiss.

-

On Sunday Peter arrived at the studio wearing his uniform, sparkling red shorts with a train that started on his hips, the length getting longer as went down, ending at the back of his knee, the tight fabric of the shorts clinging closely to his thighs. He wore a top, very similar to a tank top, but that was a lot tighter(also red), and there was a red ribbon that tied at his neck, similar to a choker. He wore black flats, because no one can do what he was going to do in heels.

He was ready and at the studio before it started, but there was a large amount of missing people. He just assumed everyone would be a little late, it was kind of stormy after all.

But, in case anyone cared, one of the people that wasn’t missing was Tony. He was there making sure everything was going to end out positively, or at least decently. He was wearing a suit like he always did and he looked hot, and Peter had to stop himself from staring.

There were a few more people from his team, mainly people who were first up, most of the later ones were choosing not to be here the time Tony had instructed.

The turn-out for today was smaller than yesterday, as well. Even the other teams didn’t have many people there, which was strange. Peter always thought other teams looked really put together, but today they didn’t. The other coaches were stressing over where their students happened to be weird. Tony actually seemed to fit, besides the custom tailored suit. 

It was another twenty minutes (past the time the show was supposed to start) when someone came over the intercom, their voice blaring through the entire studio. “Because of the weather, our technology has been messing up, additionally, many performers are unable to attend. Today is not cancelled as of now, but it will be postponed. We’ll keep you updated, and we may push today, till tomorrow. Please keep your absent dancers and their parents notified with updates for the next few hours. Please bare with us for the next few hours, we do ask that everyone leaves the performance area because people will soon be working on the sound systems and technology, however, our concessions will be opened in a moment, providing food and drinks, thank you,”

The intercom clicked off, and Peter sighed. He slowly made his way out of the stage-room, walking into the halls which were a bit more crowded. He knew he didn’t want to stay there, because while he wasn’t exactly a claustrophobic person, he didn’t want to sit in a hot hallway with a bunch of people.

He walked into the nearest room, which happened to be a bathroom, bracing his hands on the sink and looking down at the sink.. He only saw one other person in there, and didn’t notice who it was until he notice that no one else wears a fucking suit.

“Oh,” He said. They hadn’t been in a room together for a while, the last time he was alone with Tony was when he was learning his dance for the first bit. Once he got it, he never arranged private practices anymore. “Sorry,” Peter mumbled as he turned out of the room.

“You don’t have to -” 

But Peter was already gone.

This time, Peter went upstairs found a door and walked out of it.

It was much better than a bathroom anyway. It was an outdoor staircase, a platform wide enough to comfortably fit four people. The rain was being blocked by some awning of a sort, but it was more of like an overhang from the next floor. The wind was blowing, so he would occasionally get a little sprayed, but the fresh air was worth it. 

It let him think, let him clear his mind.

And he didn’t stop the tear that was threatening to spill out. It was just that small personal interaction clouded his mind, and while the building was stuffy and mixed up his thoughts, but out here as he took deep breaths, it became harder to forget everything.

He realized yesterday that he was actually falling for Tony and that it was so much more than a childish, harmless crush with one rush-of-the-moment kiss, because Peter was falling for him. And he hated it so much.

The cold wind blew more rain on him, and he shivered slightly, he didn’t even care if he was getting wet now, he didn’t want to go back in there, plus he knew he couldn’t get soaked, and everything would be fine. He just needed to breathe.

“Pete-!” Came a loud voice and a door opening. “Peter,” The voice softened as Peter turned around and he was greeted with Tony Stark. 

Peter didn’t know what to say. Was Peter mad? Yeah. Tony didn’t even make an attempt to talk to him in the past six months, but was he being a bit of a hypocrite? Yeah. So, not knowing what to do, he just side stepped over, allowing Tony to stand next to him and lean on the railing. Peter was no against a concrete wall, but he didn’t mind, it blocked out more of the rain. 

“Peter, I don’t want to keep doing this, I can’t keep doing this, - Christ, kid you must be freezing,”

“I’m not,” He said shortly, unwrapping his arms from himself to prove a point.

Peter knew he was technically in the wrong for all of this. He kissed Tony, but that didn’t exactly mean none of it was Tony’s fault. They both failed in the whole communication department, and he was mainly upset it had taken six months for anything to happen. 

Tony sighed as he looked over at Peter, rain droplets blowing into his hair. “What happened a while ago, it was - wrong,”

Peter was really hoping that Tony wouldn’t have said that, but it’s what he’d expected.

“I know,” Peter said sadly. “But you didn’t talk to me - afterward you didn’t even try,” The dancer deadpanned, looking up at Tony, trying not to shiver. “I mean, I know I should’ve tried as well, but I sat there for the last six months thinking it over and how i ruined everything, and you couldn’t even look me in the eye for longer than two seconds,” Peter said, trying to keep his voice calm.

Eventually he couldn’t help but shiver and Tony rolled his eyes, sighing, as he took of his suit jacket. “Take it, please,” He handed it over, not leaving much room for Peter to deny it unless he wanted to look like a huge-dickwad. “And I didn’t talk to you afterwards, Parker, because it was wrong,”

Peter was literally about to cry. The tone in Tony’s voice was cold, almost like disappointment.

“But was more wrong, was how much I liked it,” He said in the same tone, which, now, Peter realized the disappointment and coldness was aimed for Tony, not himself. And, Peter couldn’t believe it. Tony Stark liked kissing Peter.

“It is so wrong in so many ways that I can’t begin to pinpoint the worst one - actually I can - the age gap -”

“Kiss me,”

Tony looked down at Peter, thinking how he was going to hell for picking that outfit for him. “Are you aware of what you just said?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “More than,” He said, taking a step closer to his coach. “Tony, for the last few months, all I could think about was you, every second of every day I would think about how you were mad at me, or that you hated me, or something to the equivalent, and it killed me. You’re worried about all the problems that I’ve thought about, and I don’t care, because you just said how you had liked it,” Peter paused. “So, kiss me,”

“You can’t be thinking this through,” Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Peter sighed exasperatedly, “I’ve thought about what’s going to happen in different scenarios. I’ve thought about it just being one more kiss, or if we form a relationship, if we get married or don’t, have kids or don’t, if said kids would be a boy or a girl,” He began, listing everything he’d been thinking over for the last six months. “I’ve thought about everything! Everyday I think about it! So, kiss me, Coach Stark, kiss me before I lose my mind!” Peter said, a bit louder than he intended.

Tony moved forward, and in the matter of seconds, one of Tony’s hands were on the back of Peter’s neck, the other on his hip, their lips were brought together. Peter’s hands wrapped around Tony’s neck.

Tony walked forward slightly, Peter going back with him so that the boy was pushed up against the wall. Tony used the hand that was behind Peter’s neck to brace himself against the wall as he gained even more dominance in the kiss.

When they pulled apart, looking at each other for a quick moment, catching their breath. Peter couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips as he looked at the older man.  
“Uh -” Peter stutered. “Thanks,”

Tony smiled, knocking his head back as a small laugh. “Thank you?” He said, mocking Peter. “I kiss you, and you reply with ‘Thank you?’”

“Shut up,” Peter laughed.

||finally done this took foreverrrrr i can’t believeeeee this took as long as it did and i still hate it, whatever though, it is what it is, and they’ll be one more part and it’ll be not family friendly and christmassy for get ready for it,, unless you don’t want to, then wellllll idk :)||


End file.
